Joker Journals Volume 1
by The Clown King Of Chaos
Summary: This is my debut story, so please go easy on me if you think it's awful. Just another few days in the Joker's life, as told by his point of view. More entries to come.


This is My very first attempt at writing anything, so please go easy on me.

December 21, 9:30 pm.

Hello old friend. It's your old pal Joker. I decided to treat myself to another parole for the season. You know, treat myself to the closest thing I have to a family. Speaking of which, I just made it so that about four families will be getting coffins for Christmas. You'd think those boring Arkham guards would learn by now. When I decide to leave, I'm going to leave.

HAHAHAHAHAHA!

So Harley was waiting for me down by the gate, and she sped off right when I got in. She makes a good little doggie. However, she wouldn't shut up about missing me. After about two minutes of her annoying rambling, I gave her a nice little whack on the face. She looked at me for a moment, her face showing that she realized that she was being bad.

"Sorry, Puddin'," She sobbed, clearly disgusted with herself.

"Just keep your eyes on the road." I grumbled back, looking around for the flying rat, even though he most probably won't find out about me until breakfast. I made sure to turn my volume down, and put the party poopers in hidden places.

December 22, 10:00 am.

The whole gang was surprised to see me. Well, they didn't _me_ first. They saw the news reel, saying I was as free as a crow.

"They always use my good side," I cackled behind them, watching my wanted poster appear on the screen. My smile always puts a smile on my face.

They all turned to see my white sparklers, screaming out of shock. They all couldn't believe that I, the man who gives them purpose in their useless lives, a good-paying job, and a roof over their heads, was finally back. Once they got their heads together, they all stood and cheered for me. I don't blame them for not coming over to grasp me or shake my hand, or give me a big ol' hug. They'd lose their throats.

December 23, 7:30 am

After our cheerful reunion, and a huge hullabaloo that lasted way into the night, I felt a sliver of boredom seep into me. So when the guys started to head out, I pulled out my handy-dandy revolver, and aimed it at one of their heads. He saw what was happening and panicked. He didn't bother running away, and I didn't bother trying to remember the hilarious name I had given him. I pulled the trigger, and BANG!

At least that's what the flag said. Feeling very pleased with both me and my classic gag, I started to howl out with laughter. And since a case of the Giggles is contagious, the whole gang started laughing with me. Harley even strutted over and rested her head on my shoulder. I was in a jolly good mood, so I didn't mind.

After we all cackled together like my hyenas for ten seconds, I stopped my laughter, and again aimed my gun with the flag still prodding out of the barrel at the same random, expendable goon, and pulled the trigger.

Whoo, I say, it looked like he had been hit by a truck. The flag's pole flew like a hawk from the gun right into the guy's right eye socket. He fell and didn't get up. The whole place got REAL quiet. I felt Harley's grip on my free arm tighten. I love her when she's scared stupid. Oh, wait… she's ALWAYS stupid! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

"Well," I started, looking down at the world's newest corpse, "that's disappointing. He could at least smile. To me, he was special."

I chuckled lightly to myself. I was surprised. He wasn't far away, yet the flag still hit him right in the socket. Bull's eye. Ha, bull's… EYE! HAHAHAHA! "Oh, but don't worry," I said, turning to Harley, "He had nothing on you, my little poodle."

She smiled, tears in her eyes. She leaned up and gave me a small kiss. It tasted of cotton candy. Oh, I really do love her sometimes. SOMETIMES.

I realized that the cadaver was still in my sight, and the gang was still standing in shock.

"What?" I innocently asked them. "I have a quota and a reputation to keep. Now, if you all get this thing outta here, and clean up the mess, you can keep your necks!" I shouted with a laugh and a smile.

They got right to work. And they got it done pretty quickly too. When they were finished, they calmly, but hurriedly ran out the door.

Laughing to myself over their entirely obvious discomfort as they ran out to where-someone-cares, I strolled over to my bedroom portion of the hideout, but I found it to be covered with a black veil that was hanging from the ceiling. Harley saw my confusion, and giggled to herself as she let go of me and ran to the curtain.

"Since you were gone, I took it upon myself to… redecorate your pad, Puddin'!" She giggled the whole time. "Just give me one second." She whispered to me, her eyes showing her head had more dirty things in it than a city cesspool.

Right when she disappeared behind the curtain, some gooey romantic melodies began to emit behind it. I stood there, genuinely curious to see what was about to happen for about half a minute, hearing nothing but her struggling with something and the strangely soothing music.

"Alright Puddin', are you ready for your _surprise?_" She called out in a seductive voice.

"As ready as I'm gonna be, Harl." I said back with a playful tone, actually excited about the situation. She knows I love surprises.

She said nothing back. Instead, the curtain separated and made an opening into what it had been hiding. My jaw dropped. It was a huge circular bed. At least twice as big as a King size. It had dark purple comforters and blankets, and at least twenty pillows varying in size. I figured they were all made of pure silk, since they were all somewhat shiny, and smother than a new, freshly polished gun.

On the back of the bed was a huge headboard shaped like a smile. It was covered with old newspaper clippings of me and my past crimes along with several wanted posters.

And right in the middle was Harley, lying down with her hand holding up her head. I then saw why I heard her struggling earlier. She was in nothing but a black leather bra and panties, and black stockings. Her hair was dangling freely like a waterfall. I stared like a kid in a toy store.

"Well, Puddin'," she said, seductiveness in her voice, "do you like it?" She shot me a very _nice looking smile_, licking her luscious lips.

I stood there like a statue, and then collapsed onto the bed. It was soft and squishy. Literally. I began to sink into it. I felt like I did when I first crawled out of that chemical river. Free. Completely liberated. I sat up, thinking about thing I don't want to remember, or can't. Then I felt a pressure on my shoulders. Harley then pulled herself into my back, and wrapped her arms around my waste. I hated being touched, and she was _not_ an exception. Just as my anger built up, it broke down just as quickly.

"Do you like it?" She repeated with a very breathy whisper right in my ear. She then began licking it, and then playfully nibbling my neck. Making a swift decision, I decided to have some fun.

"Like it?" I rasped, looking straight ahead, forcing my smile away. "NO, I don't like it!"

She tried to push herself away, but I grabbed one of her hands.

I turned around to face her and I saw pure terror in her eyes. It took all of my willpower to not break out howling right there. I tugged on her arm to bring her back to me. I look down into her blue eyes. They had tears in them, so I guess she was disappointed with herself again. She didn't scream or beg. She just whimpered. After staring into her soul for a few long moments, I slackened my hold on her, and broke apart with laughter.

"I love it!" I announced, throwing my arms up and giving her a hug. She instantly joined in. "This has got to be the most amazing bed I've ever been in."

"Ah." She had a look of disappointment again. "Well, do you like _this_?" She breathed. She started rubbing and caressing her breasts and hips.

"Actions speak louder than words." I said as I pulled of my jacket.

Really good, really long night. Harley's made herself into a screamer. Oh how I love hearing screams of any kind.

So right now, she is slumbering away in that buttery bed of mine, and I'm fully dressed, looking at the mural headpiece. See ya.

Noon

I looked at that mural for hours, smiling the whole time. I looked over the entire thing, remembering and recalling many crazy and loony plots and ploys. There's a picture of Old Man Gordon's little girl right after I shot her and made her a cripple. Always puts a grin on me.

Then there's the one where I took a game-show audience hostage. Didn't kill anyone, but I showed the country that the producers didn't care if I did, just so long as people were watching. Looks like I'm not the only freak around, right? That still holds the prize for the most fun I had without spilling any blood.

I saw when I got shot in the face by a phony Batman. Left me with a Glasgow Grin, which I love. But still, I really need to track that worthless SOB and kill him someday.


End file.
